Harry Potter and the Ethereal Note
by Eshenanya
Summary: A prologue for an AU sixth year.


An unseasonably cold breeze blew past Harry's face as he stared out of his window. Today was his sixteenth birthday, and unlike that fateful day on his eleventh birthday when he learned he was the Boy-Who-Lived, he had learned to enjoy his birthdays. His friends, Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley, always sent him the best birthday presents. He also typically got something from Hagrid, but experience had taught him to treat Hagrid's presents of food with caution. Sirius might have sent him a present, but not anymore. Sirius was gone. Harry wiped his hand across his eyes fiercely. He had met Voldemort at full power, face to face last year, but in his dreams, losing Sirius was all he could think of. He felt it was his fault—if only was the thought that plagued his mind. If only Snape hadn't antagonized him so much. If only he hadn't let Snape get to him. If only he had practiced. If only he had learned Occlumency. If only he had understood it was a trick. If only he had never picked up the prophecy, and just gone back to Hogwarts.

Harry's thoughts were interrupted when he noticed six owls. Two were carrying a large, lumpy parcel, and the others all had parcels and/or letters. Harry had looked forward to this all morning. He had to look forward to something. The Dursleys had been distant all summer, which Harry preferred. Aunt Petunia was constantly fussing over Dudley, despite him being completely better from the Dementors' attack. Uncle Vernon, not feeling as if he could mistreat Harry, mostly ignored him. Dudley relished in whimpering whenever Harry came near so Petunia would give Harry dirty looks. Occasionally, Dudley was brave and tried to beat Harry up, but Harry mostly stayed in his room, wrapped up in his thoughts, which turned to the parcels. He decided to open the big one last. First, he unwrapped Ron's present, a package of assorted joke items from Wheezly's Whizard Wheezes. He noticed several Puking Pastilles, a Nosebleed Nougat, and a small packet of something called, Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder. Hermione's present was next. She had sent him a brand new quill. It was a nice one, made from a golden Phoenix feather. The ink was midnight blue. Hagrid had sent Treacle Tart, which Harry stuffed under his bed. Next, Harry opened the envelope that had the Hogwarts seal. It had the standard letter, but the supply list didn't have any books on it. Harry also found another letter though. This one contained the results of his O.W.L.s. He had received E's in several subjects, including, to his surprise, potions. He received an O in Defense against the Dark Arts. He had gotten an A on his Astrology O.W.L., and D's in Divination and History of Magic. Next, Harry's eyes turned to the large parcel on his bed. He noticed a note. Dumbledore had sent it. It contained Sirius's will, leaving everything to Harry. Dumbledore had already explained everything last week, clarified the situation with Grimmauld Place and Kreacher, and talked to the Dursleys (that had been hilarious).

Harry let out a giggle as he remembered Uncle Vernon trying to intimidate Dumbledore, and then opened the parcel on his bed. It was an old Hogwarts robe. It had once belonged to Sirius, and Dumbledore decided Harry might like to have it. Harry cried for a little while before beginning to pack his trunk. As he gingerly placed the robe in his trunk, he noticed a small gray note, but he couldn't bring himself to open it. It had Sirius' handwriting on it, and it looked transparent and blurry. He shrugged it off—he had been crying after all. He almost threw in his old Potions book, but remembered that he wouldn't be able to continue in Potions. "There go my dreams of being an Auror," he thought bitterly. Harry packed the book anyway. He figured he could plead his case to McGonagall—she had seemed so adamant. At least he could continue in Defense Against the Dark Arts for sure. He wondered who the new professor would be. As long as it wasn't another Umbridge, he figured he'd be fine.

Harry just packed his last sock when Arthur Weasley and Professor Dumbledore apparated into his bedroom. Everything had been worked out a week ago. They apparated Harry back to the Burrow using side-along apparition, a most uncomfortable means of transportation. Harry, feeling nautious, was going to sit at the kitchen table, but Ginny appeared, and his nausea increased. After last year, he had learned to really like having her around. She was a spitfire, something he never would have guessed back in second year. He went to sit on the sofa next to the fireplace instead. Hermione and Ron were sitting there with quite a lot of space between them. Harry suspected another fight, and sat between them. Both of his friends welcomed him, and then continued their silence. Harry found out later that Ron had insulted Hermione's baking skills, when she had tried to help Mrs. Weasley. What a silly thing to fight over!

Harry couldn't wait to reach King's Cross Station, not only because he loved going to Hogwarts, but there had been a lot of tension between his two best friends (that Ginny insisted was because they liked each other), which made his summer a little less enjoyable. The biggest reason he would be glad to get on the train, however, was because Fleur wouldn't be there. Her and Mrs. Weasley didn't get along too well. Bill and Fleur were going to marry. Harry couldn't wait to get on the train and breathe his first breath of Phlegm free air since he'd arrived at the Burrow. Ginny had nicknamed Fleur, Phlegm, because of her accent. Of course, there were some things Harry wasn't looking forward to about the train ride, namely meeting Draco Malfoy. Draco's father was in Azkaban at least partly because of Harry. He also wasn't looking forward to Ginny going to sit with her new boyfriend, Dean. He'd be left alone with only Neville and Luna again probably, and they'd want to talk about last year's events, which started him wondering what it would be this year. There had already been several mass Muggle killings according to, "The Prophet." Harry just hoped that no more people he loved would die. His thoughts strayed to Ginny, but they arrived at the station, and Mrs. Weasley started bustling the children about.


End file.
